


Beliefs

by kathiann



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, Religion, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-02
Updated: 2009-02-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 01:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/780426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathiann/pseuds/kathiann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post ep to Seeing Red, the one with the psychic. What happens after Van Pelt sees Jane at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beliefs

**Author's Note:**

> I read on one of the messages boards (I don't remember which) that someone thought Van Pelt wasn't as forward in her beliefs in the most recent episodes as she was in the first few. This is my take on why. Special thanks to Ebony10 for being by beta.

I saw Christina Fry leaving. I knew that she had come into get her recordings, but I wondered what she was doing leaving from the interrogation room. I walked over to the door and saw Jane inside crying. It made me wonder what she had said that affected him that deeply. I so badly wanted to go in there and comfort him, but I knew I wouldn't be welcome. Everyone has to grieve in their own time.

Shutting the door, I walked back to my desk and just sat there staring out into space—thinking, reflecting on my own beliefs. Why was it that I believed in the afterlife, God, and psychics? Would I still believe if something happened to me or to my family like with Jane? I had no idea.

As I at there Cho came over and sat near me. "We all have the same reaction, you know," he said, startling me out of my reflection.

"What?" I asked in general, hoping he would explain what he meant.

"When he first started working with us. He's so cynical, doesn't believe in anything."

"Oh."

"It makes you question if you really know what you think you do."

"Yeah, it does."

"I think that the most important thing is to just remember the reason that you believe the way that you do."

I thought about it for a minute. Why did I believe the way I did? I was raised to be a good, religious person. I believe in God, an after life, and that all things could be possible from witchcraft to aliens. Why was I questioning them now?

"Anyway," Cho continued when I hadn't said anything, "If you let it get to you too much, you'll start to think like him. And then you'll just fall apart. I've seen it happen." He smiled at me and walked away, getting ready to go home.

I still just sat there thinking. After a minute, I turned toward my computer to try to work on a report, but I was not really concentrating. I was lost in thought and didn't hear him come up behind me.

"Here a little late tonight, are we?" Jane smiled at me. If I hadn't seen it myself I would have never guessed that he'd been crying. He was so composed, just like he always was. Did he always hide what he was feeling from all of us?

"Not much for talking tonight, I suppose?" he asked when I had still not said anything. "I know what's bothering you. I get to every one eventually. You're challenging your belief system, your values."

I just stared at him. It never ceases to amaze me how he can do that. "Are you sure that you're not psychic?"

"I'm sure," he responded with a slight smile as he settled on the couch, "I overheard Cho talking to you—it's not hard, really, when you know what to listen for."

We sat in silence for a while, me pretending to work and him pretending to sleep.

"You know, just because I don't believe in anything doesn't mean that you have to stop believing too."

"I know." I say it like he's crazy for thinking such a thing, but I know he's right—I _was_ thinking about it. "Was it really worth giving up everything you believe in?"

"Who said I ever really believed in anything? I was a very convincing fake, one step above a scam artist in most peoples' eyes."

"Does it make it any simpler, not believing that there is a life after death, that we don't answer for what we do in this life?"

"Sometimes," he smiles with his eyes closed still, "I don't encourage it though; it can be rather depressing."

I sit there trying to think of other questions to ask him. It's not often that he lets me talk with him about beliefs without getting defensive and trying to convince me that I am wrong.

"You know, they all went through this," he gestured vaguely with his hand, "Cho, Rigsby, even Lisbon. They all started to get a few close looks at me and started to question what they believe in."

"Really?" I'm looking at him on the sofa now. "What did they do?"

"Go home, get a good night's sleep, then wake up in the morning and go to church. You're happy believing in the things you do, nothing should change that, certainly not me." I notice that he didn't really answer my question. "Good night, Van Pelt."

I sit there for a minute longer collecting my thoughts and things. "Good night Jane," I say as I walk out the door. He doesn't move and I wonder if he really is asleep. I know that I will never talk about my beliefs at work with him again. I'm going to have to hold onto them for dear life, because sometimes that is all there is.


End file.
